


Solace

by RadiantSeraphina (Lady_Arrowwood)



Category: Kirby (Video Games), Kirby - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fever Dreams, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, No Plot/Plotless, Sappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 15:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7806652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Arrowwood/pseuds/RadiantSeraphina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poison. A rather dangerous ability for all life-forms, organic and otherwise. If Kirby had realized how dangerous, he'd have never used it against Meta Knight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solace

**Author's Note:**

> Set in some weird grey area after the main events of Planet Robobot and before Meta Knightmare Returns.

It’d started with the most innocent of remarks. Meta Knight took a deep breath, his back pressed against the door. Slowly, his wings unfurled from his cape, responding to his anxiety. Had he seemed upset? The knight’s mind whirled, trying to replay the incident. He’d shrugged the question off, hadn’t he? Yes, he had. Had he been subtle enough, though? No. There was nothing subtle about insisting that he’d suddenly developed a terrible migraine and fleeing to his quarters like that shattered mess he was.

 

_What’s that tune you’re humming, Sir?_

Meta Knight wasn’t sure what alarmed him more—that he’d been humming the first few bars of “The Noble Haltmann” or that he hadn’t noticed until Mace Knight pointed it out.

 

It was over. Kirby had beaten them. Pop Star was safe. Dreamland was safe. _He_ was safe. Everything was fine and good and perfect, and it was silly to be so—so torn up deep, deep inside. Even worse, some small, insistent part of him _knew_ that his reaction was well within the range of normal. Anyone would feel anxious and worthless. There shouldn’t be shame in that.

 

Oh, but there _was_. And it was almost worse because his crew had been _so_ overly accommodating. They’d waited out, trying to repair the broken remains of the _Halberd_ and dodging patrols from Haltmann Works, while waiting for him to return. They’d helped removed the robot armor, when Meta Knight finally had returned, and they’d insisted on joining him in a last-ditch effort to help Kirby save everyone. A man couldn’t wish for a better crew, so it wasn’t fair that he couldn’t be strong for them and returned a shattered wreck.

 

He wanted to scream and cry and break _something_. Possibly his skull. He really _did_ have a migraine and had been having those since the fall of Haltmann Works. There was also the persistent taste of blood and vomit in his mouth, and he didn’t know why. He should’ve stayed and helped rebuild Castle Dedede, rather than deciding spur-of-the-moment to remove any remnants of Haltmann Works’ influence. There was something deeply wrong with him, something beyond his remaining injuries. Even sharing hadn’t healed his injuries, to his crew’s horror. Meta Knight had brushed it off, replying that it was probably some lingering modification of Haltmann Works. He was a quick healer, anyway, so it didn’t matter. He wasn’t concerned.

 

He was terrified.

 

Meta Knight took Galaxia from her place between his wings. The knight turned the blade in his hand, staring at his reflection shining on her mirror-finish. She was ever-beautiful and glorious, and since he could still hold her without injury, he was still worthy of her. Still worthy of the sacred Galaxia. That had to count for something, didn’t it?

 

Meta Knight sighed and rubbed his face. Maybe if he went to bed, he’d wake feeling more like Meta Knight, defender of Dreamland and captain of the _Halberd_. It hadn’t worked the night before, but dreams were far preferable to feeling like he was going to die from a headache.

 

The knight removed his armor and gloves, leaving them beside his bed and close at hand. Then, he hesitated. He shouldn’t do it. It was a bad idea. Meta Knight _knew_ he looked terrible, and looking at his reflection without his armor would only make things worse.

 

He couldn’t stand it.

 

Meta Knight steeled himself, before looking into the small, round mirror he kept in his quarters. His eyes were gold, the white haze of corneal scarring removed by Haltmann Works. That was unnerving; he’d seen the world through a faint, misty haze for most of his life, and now it—and all the insecurities surrounding the scarring—had vanished. Meta Knight narrowed his eyes and frowned. Hadn’t he wanted his eyes to look normal again? Hadn’t he wanted to forget the incident that caused such scarring? Now his eyes looked normal. Now they were a reminder of something far worse.

 

There were half-healed electrical burns over both his cheeks. When he spread his wings, he could see the places where the tiny holes still were. There was a rough patch of bruising on his side, too, where someone had drilled for samples. It ached when he walked, but at least, he wasn’t limping anymore. Meta Knight was grateful he couldn’t see his back, where his crew had hastily pried and cut loose the machinery. There were bruises and lacerations there, and it was still sore. At least, his crew couldn’t readily see what a mess he was, if he wore his mask and the Dimensional Cape.

 

He turned away and climbed into bed, taking Galaxia with him. He winced, as his normally soft blankets brushed roughly against his injured face and side. “Sorry,” he muttered, apologizing to Galaxia for being clingy and weak.

 

As always, her presence was gentle warmth and deep darkness, inciting the same wonder and comfort as a star-studded night. _Dear heart. You’ve nothing to be sorry for._

 “I think you have more faith in me than in do in myself,” he confided.

 

_Of course, I have faith in you. I chose you._

 

He fell asleep to the soft murmurs of her sacred fire. There were no nightmares in Dreamland, and that made sleep far preferable to wakefulness.

 

* * *

 

 

Meta Knight shivered and buried his face into the rough surface beneath him. It was…blankets? Towels? Yes, probably towels. Haltmann Works wouldn’t have something as soft as _blankets_ , and even if they did, they certainly wouldn’t spare any for him. Something hot and damp fell down his face. Blood or sweat? Tears? He closed his eyes and drew a long, rasping breath. It was important to appear strong, even if he felt so raw and ripped apart.

 

“M-Meta Knight?” He knew that voice.

 

Barely able to support himself on his paws, Meta Knight shakily lifted his head. The pink puffball was fuzzy. “Kirby,” Meta Knight rasped.

 

Kirby. Why was Kirby there? They’d caught Kirby. Meta Knight’s breath hitched. Oh, no. No, no, no. Were they going to do everything to Kirby that they’d done to him? Were they going to tear him apart and drill holes in him and make him scream and thrash and cry—no, not Kirby. Kirby was stronger than him, but Kirby hadn’t endured like Meta Knight had. “I—I’ll protect you,” the knight mumbled.

 

Pain lanced across his back, as he lifted his wing and draped it over the young puffball. Kirby’s paws ghosted over the thin membrane of Meta Knight’s wings, too painful against the half-healed holes and damp skin. “Meta Knight?” The following words were sharp sounds without meaning.

 

He tried to focus, but he was so hot and so exhausted. He just wanted to sleep. There were no nightmares in Dreamland. “Kirby,” Meta Knight murmured. “Kaabii, yo—”

 

The knight said something, but it sounded all wrong even to his ears. Kirby shifted closer, his paws hovering close to Meta Knight’s face. “D-did I hurt you?” Kirby asked, his eyes too-bright. “Meta Knight?”

 

The words made no sense, but Kirby’s unshed tears did. “N-no, they did…” he trailed off.

 

His vision blurred, and he blinked futilely, in an attempt to clear it. Meta Knight’s face sank into the towels, scratchy against the burns and lacerations. “Meta Knight?”

 

Sleep. He just needed to sleep. Sleep, sleep, sleep. Kirby. “Kirby, me despiertas…if she comes,” Meta Knight said slowly, testing the words, trying to get them right.

 

The knight shifted, pulling Kirby closer against him. It was safe there. No, no. Nowhere was safe. Kirby shivered. He was cold and damp. And poor Kirby, poor Dreamland. They lost, and that was why he was all torn apart deep, deep inside. And—

 

“She?” Kirby asked.

 

She. Galax—no, no. Not her, not his companion. Not Galaxia. No—the one. The one who let them cut him up and shatter him into pieces, who _giggled_ when they tore him apart.

 

“She’s gone, Meta Knight.”

 

No, no. If she was gone, he wouldn’t hurt so badly. There wouldn’t be bruises and cuts and holes in his wings and some terrible thing of fire twisting in his gut. And Kirby wouldn’t sound so scared. How _dare_ they? Breaking him apart, torturing him was—was abhorrent, but Kirby—poor Kirby was just a child. Would they—of course, they would. He had to protect Kirby. Kirby, Kirby, Kirby—

 

He couldn’t feel his paws, and his head seemed weightlessly, bobbing about freely on his shoulders. Kir—by. Kirby. Protect Kirby. He nudged Kirby with his wing, pulling the smaller puffball as close as he could against his side. Uncharacteristically subdued, Kirby settled there. “Es—está bien,” Meta Knight mumbled. “I’ll think of something.”

 

“Kay, Meta Knight,” Kirby said, his paw brushing Meta Knight’s cheek.

 

* * *

 

Eventually, Meta Knight fell asleep. Kirby remained where he was, tucked against the knight’s sweat-damp side. Why was Meta Knight so bad off? He’d seemed well when they fought Star Dream and when he’d left afterwards. Or had Kirby just not noticed? The pink puffball carefully rolled onto his side and stared at the knight’s face, his normally rose-pink cheeks marred with blisters and new scars. Kirby’s eyes burned. How could anyone do such a horrible thing to his friend? And poor Meta Knight thought he was still there, and his first thought had been to protect Kirby. “I—I’m sorry it took so long,” Kirby whispered. “They hurt you, and I—I couldn’t stop them.”

 

Kirby didn’t bother wiping away his tears, though he would’ve, if Meta Knight had been awake. “I love you, s-so you have to be okay,” Kirby said.

 

“Kirby, are you awake?” It was Sailor Dee whispering.

 

Kirby didn’t answer. Instead, he carefully moved Meta Knight’s wing and crawled out from under it. Bandanna Dee, his brow creased and his eyes worried, stood beside his fellow waddle dee and Axe Knight. “Nova’s grace, look at him,” Bandanna Dee murmured. “Why would he insist on leaving the castle, if he was this bad off?”

 

“We’ll talk in the hall,” Axe Knight said. “He needs rest, so we shouldn’t wake him. Sailor Dee will treat his injuries.”

 

Sailor Dee looked very tired. Kirby offered a smile, as he, Bandanna Dee, and Axe Knight made to leave, but Sailor Dee didn’t even seem to notice. “What happened?”

 

“We thought he’d be fine,” Axe said. “He was injured, and of course, we were worried. We pulled the awful robot armor off him, and then, sharing didn’t work—”

 

“What?” Bandanna Dee asked.

 

“I know, but he’s always been a fast healer, and he wasn’t feverish. This just set in a couple days ago. Before that, Mace said he’d complained about a headache, but…you know how Sir Meta Knight is! He’d never want us to worry about him, so he wouldn’t admit if he was really sick.” Axe sighed and rubbed his skull-shaped mask. “And we can’t even figure out what’s wrong with him! We don’t know what all Haltmann Works did to him, and I swear if I had _half the chance_ to—to get back at them for doing this to our captain, I—I just—”

 

“We all would,” Bandanna Dee said gently. “How high is his fever?”

 

“About five degrees,” Axe replied, with a sigh.

 

“But that’s not much, is it?” Kirby asked.

 

“It can be, when we’re talking about body temperatures,” Bandanna Dee said, “But a fever isn’t necessarily a bad sign. It means that Meta Knight’s body is fighting whatever is wrong with him.”

 

“That’s true,” Axe said. “We’re just worried. He’s been drifting in and out of lucidity for a while. That’s why we grounded the _Halberd_ ; we’d rather focus our energy on healing him than on flying around. He still thinks he’s at Haltmann Works sometimes. Other times, he doesn’t recognize us. When he’s like that, he really responds best to Sailor Dee; sometimes, he mistakes him for you.”

 

“I’m sure you’re doing your best,” Bandanna Dee said.

 

“But is it enough?” Axe asked. “We don’t even…his wounds aren’t even infected. They’re just not healing at all. It’s like he’s been poisoned!”

 

 _Poisoned_. Kirby gasped and covered his mouth with his paws. Poison. When he fought Meta Knight, he’d used poison, and he’d never thought…oh, no. “It’s my fault!” Kirby blurted out. “I hurt Meta Knight!”

 

Bandanna Dee and Axe both whirled around and stared at him. Kirby sank to the ground and buried his face in his paws. Meta Knight was hurt and sick, and it was all his fault! Why didn’t he stop to think about how terrible such a power would be? He’d seen what it did. Why hadn’t he stopped and thought it through before using it? It just hadn’t occurred to him. It’d reminded him of Water, and he liked Water!

 

A paw patted his head. “Kirby,” Bandanna Dee said. “Did you use the Poison power-up against Meta Knight? Is that what you mean?”

 

Kirby nodded and dared look up. The waddle dee’s eyes were kind. “You couldn’t have possibly known how it would affect him,” Bandanna Dee said. “Don’t be upset. Meta Knight wouldn’t be upset. He’d know that you did what you had to, right, Axe Knight?”

 

“Y-yeah, of course! Our lord would,” he added quietly.

 

“And maybe there’s a way to fix it,” Bandanna Dee said. “If Poison hurt him this badly, perhaps, Doctor would heal him?”

 

Doctor. Kirby stood and nodded slowly. That made sense. That was something to do. Find Doctor and use it to help heal Meta Knight. Make Meta Knight all better. He could make things right, like he always did. Meta Knight would be fine. “We need to find a pillah,” Kirby said. “Then, we can help Meta Knight!”

 

“A pillah?” Axe inquired.

 

“It’s a creature that appeared during Haltmann Works’ invasion,” Bandanna Dee said. “When Kirby copies it, he gains the Doctor ability.”

 

“You want to use one ability to undo what another did,” Axe said. “I see. Well, if it’ll help Sir Meta Knight, we’ll help you. We can get the _Halberd_ back in the skies and get a better vantage point.”

 

Kirby nodded. He’d travel all over Pop Star if he had to. Anything to help his friend.

 

* * *

 

Meta Knight weakly lifted his head to see who’d touched his wings. Was it really a waddle dee? Waddle dees were safe. He trusted waddle dees. “Dee?” he rasped.

 

_Which Dee?_

 

“Meta Knight.”

 

Meta…Knight? His name. Not Mecha Knight or the number they’d given him. “We need you to hold still. We’re going to get you better,” the waddle dee said.

 

No. It was a trap! He growled and spread his wings. The knight tried to stand but fell over almost immediately. “No, don’t do that! You’ll hurt yourself.”

 

The waddle dee picked him up. Meta Knight hissed and tried to squirm free. “Grab his wings!” the waddle dee shouted.

 

How dare they? Meta Knight kicked and twisted, but he was so weak. They made him so weak, and he couldn’t do anything! But he had to keep fighting, keep trying. Even when they pinned him against the ground and held him down. “Kirby, hurry!”

 

Kirby? Pain shot through Meta Knight’s back, and he bit back a scream. How could he possibly hurt so much at once and so badly? “Galaxia,” he rasped.

 

She didn’t respond, and a jolt of fear shot through him. Galaxia always answered when he called for her. Why didn’t she answer? Why didn’t she help? His wings slumped, and he gasped for breath. The world wouldn’t stop spinning, and someone soft and hot was lifting and carrying him. “Back to bed, Sir.”

 

Axe Knight? Meta Knight blinked, trying to force the blurs of color into focus. Why was his crew there? Had they been captured, too? Were they hurt? His crew. Axe, Mace, Trident, Sailor, Javelin. And—and Kirby? Where was Kirby?

 

Axe—was it Axe?—sat him in something semi-soft. “Kirby!” Meta Knight shouted.

 

Kirby, Dedede, Bandanna Dee, Galaxia. Those were people he knew. Because he was Meta Knight, Dedede’s best knight. Meta…Knight. Meta Knight. Right. And Kirby—if Kirby was captured, who was going to save them all? Meta Knight was so, so sorry and couldn’t find the words…

 

_Meta Knight, it’s alright._

No, it wasn’t. Galaxia was wrong or altered like he was. Everything was falling apart, and there was nothing left. Without Kirby, there’d be only Dedede and Bandanna Dee to save Dreamland. Could they pull that off? Dedede would try, and eventually, Meta Knight would have to fight him. Maybe Dedede—just _once_ —would hide away and do nothing. Nothing at all. That would be...so great, but it would also never happen.

 

* * *

 

Meta Knight’s crew hadn’t slept much, since their captain had fallen ill. No one had said that out-right, but Bandanna Dee caught the signs in the slump of their shoulders, in their frequent yawns, and the alarming amount of coffee perched on every surface. They rotated shifts watching and taking care of Meta Knight, so they’d happily accepted another two bodies to stay awake and watch their beloved captain. Bandanna Dee’s shift had already ended, but he hadn’t left to fetch Mace Knight. There was no harm in giving the crew a bit of much-needed rest, when he, himself, had slept well within the past week.

 

He waited. Meta Knight did seem greatly improved. His injuries were still present, but the membrane on his wings already looked better. The majority of Meta Knight’s injuries were hidden beneath bandages, and their state was impossible to determine without removing them and likely waking Meta Knight. Still, the knight didn’t thrash and mumble in his sleep anymore, and his temperature was down. Absentmindedly, Bandanna Dee petted Kirby’s head. The younger puffball hadn’t left Meta Knight’s side, and he’d fallen asleep over an hour ago. Bandanna Dee didn’t have the heart to move him.

 

“Why are you in my quarters?” Meta Knight’s normally rich voice sounded raspy and pained.

 

Bandanna Dee met the knight’s bright gold eyes. Hadn’t they been silvery-white before? The waddle dee shook his head; that wasn’t important. “You’ve been very sick,” Bandanna Dee said, quietly approaching the knight’s bed. “Kirby poisoned you. You’ve been feverish for days and…hallucinating a bit. Would you like water?”

 

Meta Knight stared blankly, before slowly nodding. Bandanna Dee grabbed the nearby pitcher and poured a cup, taking extra care to hand it off slowly. “Don’t drink too fast. You’ll make yourself sick,” Bandanna Dee said.

 

“Thank you, Mother,” Meta Knight replied, taking a few quick gulps.

 

“You’re feeling rather feisty, aren’t you?” Bandanna Dee asked. “That’s pleasant.”

 

“Are you being facetious?”

 

“Not at all,” Bandanna Dee replied sincerely. “I’m overjoyed to see you awake.”

 

Meta Knight smiled wryly and sat the empty cup aside. “I was hallucinating?”

 

“Do you remember?”

 

“Bits and pieces,” Meta Knight replied. “I remember Haltmann, and we won. Didn’t we? We defeated Star Dream.”

 

“You did. You were great,” Bandanna Dee said. “Glorious, even.”

 

Meta Knight’s smile faded. “No, I wasn’t. I failed everyone.”

 

“Did you? I thought you retrieved the _Halberd_ —injured, if I recall correctly—so Kirby could copy it with his Robobot armor. Kirby said you were awesome.”

 

“Kirby is a child. He doesn’t understand,” Meta Knight muttered.

 

“Is that why you set off like this? Some sort of redemption quest?”

 

Meta Knight wouldn’t meet Bandanna Dee’s eyes; instead, the knight gazed longingly at his armor. Feigning ignorance, Bandanna Dee stepped a bit to the side, blocking the armor from view and cutting off Meta Knight's direct access to it. Insecure or not, Bandanna Dee was certain that Meta Knight didn’t need to put all the heavy metal over half-healed injuries. “It’s frightening how you read people,” the knight said, his face failing to hide his annoyance.

 

If he'd had a mouth, Bandanna Dee would've smirked. “We all have our gifts, Sir Knight.”

 

“I’m hardly worthy of that title.”

 

“You _are_ worthy of that title. You are brave and strong, and you’ll get past all this,” Bandanna Dee said, with a wave of his paw, “And you shouldn’t be ashamed of taking time to get there. You’re injured and need rest, but you’re going to get better. And then, you—you’re going to kick ass!”

 

“You praise me too highly.” Meta Knight failed to stifle his chuckle.

 

“As your friend, it’s my duty to feed your ego when necessary.”

 

Meta Knight hummed. “Is that a new power?” he asked, nodding to Kirby.

 

“Doctor,” Bandanna Dee answered. “He used it to heal you of the poison. He’s worried about you. We all were.”

 

Meta Knight stumbled from his bed. Bandanna Dee put a steadying paw at the knight’s side. “It’d really make me feel better, if you’d let me help you. Until we can share, at least,” Bandanna Dee said, knowing that Meta Knight would refuse help otherwise.

 

Meta Knight paused. “If that makes you feel better,” he replied predictably.

 

They walked to Kirby, and Meta Knight stared at the younger puffball for a moment. “Kirby?”

 

Kirby stirred, his blue eyes opening groggily. “Meta? Meta Knight!” The puffball darted up, Bandanna Dee barely managing to intercept the rib-crushing hug.

 

“Careful! He’s still hurt,” Bandanna Dee said.

 

Kirby frowned. His eyes were wide and horrified, seeming to take in Meta Knight’s still-injured appearance. “I-I’m sorry, Meta Knight,” Kirby said, wringing his paws together.

 

Meta Knight waved a dismissive paw. “You did well. On the contrary, I should be apologizing to you. I foolishly thought I could defeat Haltmann Works singlehandedly, and I failed. And by extension, I let myself be turned against you.”

 

Bandanna Dee scoffed. “Don’t beat yourself up over it! Haltmann Works has done that enough for you.”

 

Kirby shook his head. “Meta Knight. I—I thought you might d-die, and it’d be my fault! I couldn’t stop them from hurting you, and then, I hurt you more!”

 

“Die? I’m not made of glass, Kirby.”

 

“If he was, he’d have died long ago. One hug from the Great King would’ve done it,” Bandanna Dee replied with a chuckle. “But hey. I’ll leave you both alone for a minute. We’ll get some Maxim tomatoes, and you’ll be back to your old self soon enough, eh, Sir Meta Knight?”

 

The knight nodded, though Bandanna Dee could easily see the doubt in Meta Knight’s face. Of course, that doubt and guilt wasn’t something that a tomato could heal. That would take time, and—perhaps—Meta Knight’s venture of combing out the rest of Haltmann’s influence was the key to it. If so, Bandanna Dee would happily help. That was why he’d come, after all—to see that Meta Knight didn’t become consumed with his feelings of guilt, as the king had foreseen. He could sense, though, that Kirby wanted to speak with Meta Knight alone, and Bandanna Dee understood. He’d just be very slow getting the tomato from Mace Knight.

 

* * *

 

 

Kirby sat beside Meta Knight. He didn’t dare nestle up against the knight, knowing that Meta Knight, being injured, would likely be even less receptive to the idea than usual. Instead, Kirby fidgeted and let his eyes linger on Meta Knight’s wings. His wings were torn and bruised, like the rest of him, but somehow they were still awe-inspiring and beautiful. Powerful, gorgeous wings. Meta Knight had mentioned once that he thought Kirby would have large, feathery wings, but Kirby didn’t want those. He wanted wings like Meta Knight; he wanted to look like his mentor.

 

Kirby knew he was brave and strong, but Meta Knight seemed so cool and _noble_ in some strangely incomprehensible way. Kirby wanted to be like that, too. What would Meta Knight say at such a declaration? Would he be flattered? Or horrified? Would he brush off Kirby’s comments or insist that Kirby _didn’t_ want to be like him? Probably the latter. Kirby toyed with his glasses and frowned. “What did they do to your eyes?” Kirby asked, suddenly noting the difference.

 

The puffball darted up and leaned close. Meta Knight’s eyes were gold and vibrant, as bright as Galaxia’s blade. “They removed some very bad scarring,” Meta Knight said. “This is the color my eyes _are_.”

 

“You kept the lens in your mask,” Kirby said, frowning, “So your eyes would look…normal?”

 

Meta Knight scowled. “I don’t know why you have to look so closely at me,” he said.

 

“Because you’re the only person that looks like me, and I just—I wonder what we are,” Kirby said, “And I don’t know why you’d want to hide how you look! Why are you ashamed of it?”

 

Meta Knight's expression softened. “Star-stuff,” he said, after a moment.

 

“What?”

 

“Star-stuff. That’s what we are.”

 

Kirby frowned and toyed with his glasses again. “But we have to be something. We can’t just be—”

 

“Everything in the world is made of star-stuff,” Meta Knight said. “All the elements that make up stars are continuously recycled and formed into new things. In a sense, we’re all made of the same things—you, me, Bandanna Dee, and King Dedede. You’re connected to every living creature in that way.”

 

“That’s not an answer.”

 

“It is. It just isn’t the one you wanted.”

 

Kirby, sensing that Meta Knight probably couldn't be coaxed into elaborating, decided to change topics. Besides, there was something Kirby just _had_ to confess; it'd sprung up from nowhere, and he thought he might burst if he never said it. “I thought I killed you,” Kirby mumbled, trying to keep his voice even. “The first time. I—I cried over it. I couldn’t believe you’d really die, but I—I didn’t want…”

 

Kirby looked away and felt his face warm. There was no hiding embarrassment or shame with a face like his. Maybe that was why Meta Knight insisted on hiding his; their species—as far as Kirby could tell—had a great deal of difficulty in hiding their emotions. “I’m not going anywhere,” Meta Knight said. “You need never fear that, Kirby. Even if I’m against you—of my free will or not—I’ll always return to your side. You have a very tender heart, a very different heart from mine, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

 

Kirby knew his blush marks must’ve been redder than Dedede’s favorite robe. Meta Knight rarely offered praise, and it warmed Kirby’s heart. “I’m glad you and Dedede are alright,” Kirby said.

 

Kirby had missed having a family. “Yes,” Meta Knight replied. “So am I.”

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning was a good one. Meta Knight could finally put his armor on without it chaffing and brushing against injuries; he felt almost like himself again. He flexed his wings for the fiftieth time, enjoying the feel of having them out, without feeling tiny shivers of pain. He was eager for the sky and the wind. Galaxia brightened, from her place between his wings; she longed for battle and adventure, too.

 

Meta Knight quietly closed the door to his quarters, careful not to wake the small puffball that’d commandeered his bed and remained sleeping there. His sabatons clinked familiarly against the ship’s metal deck. When he arrived at the control room, he was met with cheers and Mace Knight shoving a plate of chocolate chip cookies in his face. “For you, Sir!” Mace exclaimed.

 

“The entire _plate_?” Meta Knight asked.

 

His stomach was telling him to scarf down cookies, but his wings and Galaxia itched for flight. “Of course!” Mace replied. “You need a treat, Captain!”

 

Meta Knight took one, lifted his mask slightly, and ate it, while mumbling his thanks. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed sweets. “Delicious,” he said, once he’d finished. “I’ll have the rest, when I return.”

 

“Return?” Axe piped up.

 

“Where are you going, Sir?” Trident inquired.

 

“I imagine he’s off to cleanse the land of Haltmann Works’ invasion,” Bandanna Dee said, tying his bandanna more firmly. “Or perhaps, I should say _we_ ’re off.”

 

“We?” Meta Knight asked.

 

“The Great King ordered me to look after his _favoritest wayward knight to make sure he ain’t doin’ nothin’ too reckless_ ,” Bandanna Dee replied, in a decent impersonation of King Dedede. “I imagine facing the remnants of Haltmann Works without back-up would qualify.”

 

“Well, I can’t argue with our liege.” Meta Knight _could_ , but it wouldn’t be worth the trouble. Besides, having Bandanna Dee around would be…reassuring. It’d feel more like a casual adventure, and while Meta Knight would never be so sappy as to say it aloud, he _did_ take comfort in Bandanna Dee’s observant nature and kind advice.

 

“We’re going, too!” Axe added.

 

“Right,” Mace said. “We’re not leaving you alone again!”

 

“Excuse me?” Meta Knight asked.

 

“Look, Sir,” Axe said, spreading his paws in a placating manner. “When the _Halberd_ was struck down, we hid like you told us, too, but when you were taken…we just couldn’t bear it! And when we saw what they did to you—we want to fight them, too! There’s no reason for us not to join you, is there, Sir?”

 

“Please, Sir!” Mace said.

 

“I want to come, too,” Trident said.

 

“Kirby is sleeping,” Meta Knight said, “And if I know him, he’ll be out most of the day. We don’t want—”

 

“Sailor Dee can stand guard and watch him,” Axe said quickly. “Please, let us come.”

 

“I’m touched that you would care so deeply about me.” _After I’ve failed you._

“We couldn’t want for a better captain,” Mace said, setting the cookies aside. “Let us fight at your side, Sir!”

 

Meta Knight nodded. “Very well,” he said, “But I expect you to keep up.”

 

“Of course, Sir! I’ll just fetch Sailor Dee!” Axe said.

 

“And I’ll get my weapons!” Mace added.

 

“I’ll find Javelin!” Trident said.

 

Meta Knight smiled beneath his mask. He wasn’t alright; he was still very far from it, even if his injuries had healed. There was, however, a strange and bright side to things. He’d never felt so worthless and so eager to _prove_ his worth, but he’d also never felt so loved. And with time, everything would turn out okay.


End file.
